War Hawk: A Tucker Wayne Novel (26 page)

At this early stage of the project, those employees only numbered two: a pair of engineers who were conducting land surveys in this remote corner. According to Jane, they rotated those engineers fairly regularly—which, considering how isolated it was out here, only made sense.

“Car’s coming,” Frank warned.

To the west, a gray Jeep with a yellow light on top headed their way.

Definitely military.

Uh-oh
.

The vehicle must have come from the Stallion Gate ten miles farther up the road, marking the northernmost entrance to White Sands. Suspecting this was a routine patrol, Tucker got back out and returned to examining the engine compartment. He retightened the radiator cap as the vehicle drew abreast of the SUV.

As the Jeep slowed, Tucker raised an arm, giving them a thumbs-up. With the sun glinting off the vehicle’s windows, he could see nothing of the interior, but he felt a pair of eyes watching him.

Keep moving
, he silently urged.

Without a word, the Jeep’s engine growled deeper, and the vehicle continued down the road and soon disappeared around a bend. He suspected they’d run his license plate number. He hoped the false ID used to rent the vehicle continued to hold water.

Not wanting to push his luck, Tucker spent a few more minutes tinkering with the engine before shutting the hood and rejoining the others. He wheeled the SUV around and backtracked to the nearby town of Carrizozo, where the team had dinner and mapped out their plan.

As the sun finally sank away, Tucker faced the group across the ruins of their meal. “Ready?” he asked.

It would be now or never.

He got nods all around. Kane, seated at his feet under the table, wagged his tail.

For better or worse, at least it’s unanimous
.

8:09
P
.
M
.

Ninety minutes later, Tucker slowed the Honda Pilot as he neared the dirt road that led to the trailer belonging to Sirocco Power. He doused his headlights, made the turn, and coasted to a stop. A hundred yards down the darkened road, yellow rectangles of light marked the trailer’s position, a lonely outpost here in the desert.

He and Frank got out, while Jane took the wheel with Kane in the passenger seat. The two of them donned ski masks and took off low through the scrub brush, while Jane turned on the headlights and continued slowly down the bumpy road toward the trailer.

As she did so, Tucker angled wide with Frank, circling toward the far side of the trailer from the approaching Honda Pilot. The plan was simple: to blitz the two engineers before they were any the wiser.

As Jane pulled up to the trailer’s steps and rolled down her window, the door opened and a tall man took a step out.

Jane called over to him. “I’m sorry to bother you. I saw your lights on. I think I’m lost.”

As Tucker approached the trailer from the shadows, he recognized the sweet charm in her voice, imagining her sheepish smile as she played her role.

“Where you trying to get?” the man asked, tugging a company cap more firmly on his head as he headed over to her. He carried a beer bottle in his hand.

A glance through the nearest window showed another man lounging on a sofa inside the trailer, dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt, watching a football game on a big LCD television.

Sorry to interrupt game night, boys
.

On Tucker’s signal, Frank ran out of the dark and blindsided the man, hitting him from behind and crashing his target headlong into the side of the SUV. At the same time, Tucker dashed through the door in a single bound. The fellow on the sofa only had time to swing his legs to the floor when Tucker pointed his JPX handgun at his face.

“You really don’t want me to fire.”

Outside, Kane growled as Jane let the shepherd loose.

“And you definitely don’t want me to call my dog in here.”

In a matter of five minutes, they had both men secured inside with flexi-cuffs around their wrists and ankles.

After gagging and blindfolding the pair, Tucker pulled off his ski mask. “Okay, listen up,” he growled thickly. “We don’t want no trouble, and we don’t wanna hurt nobody. Where’s your money, your stuff?”

The goal was to make this look like a robbery.

Frank frisked both men and came up with their wallets. He took the cash. “What about these credit cards?” he asked, thickening his southern accent.

“They track plastic, dummy,” Tucker warned. “Leave ’em. Grab those cell phones on the table, though. And those walkie-talkies. Let’s see what else they got.”

Frank searched the double-wide trailer, discovering a locker with blue coveralls with the Sirocco Power logo on their pockets. Identification badges were pinned to the uniforms. He tossed them to Jane, who set to work, altering the badges using an X-ACTO knife and small photos of herself and Tucker.

To further support the robbery story, Frank began tossing the place.

Tucker used this time to study the survey maps tacked to the wall, noting the company’s work sites dotting this corner of the military base. He ripped down one of the charts, folded it, and pocketed it.

“Found some keys,” Frank announced loudly.

“Take ’em!” Tucker said. “Probably belong to that SUV out back. Maybe Spider can strip it for us.”

Jane gave Tucker a thumbs-up, waving the two badges to get her handiwork to dry.

“Okay, we’re outta here.” Tucker nudged one of the engineers with his foot. “Just to show we ain’t all bad, I’ll call someone tomorrow. Get ’em to come cut you all loose.”

With matters concluded, they all bailed out of the trailer. Tucker turned off the lights as he exited. He felt a flicker of guilt at leaving the men like this, but he had no choice. Too many lives were at stake.

Once outside, Jane hid their SUV behind the trailer, out of direct view of the road. They’d retrieve the vehicle if they could. If not, he was out another deposit.

So be it
.

They quickly transferred all their gear, including Rex, to the power company’s Expedition, then set off back to the highway. Tucker turned west and headed for the Stallion Gate.

“Holy crap, we pulled that off,” Frank said from the backseat.

In the rearview mirror, Tucker saw the man’s hair was matted with sweat, his face flushed. “Looks like you got a second career to fall back on if this army gig doesn’t work out.”

Jane smiled back at Frank. “You did good. Very convincing.”

Far ahead, the lights of the base gates appeared, glowing in the darkness.

Tucker’s hands tightened on the wheel.

Now comes the hard part
.

20

October 22, 8:45
P
.
M
. MDT

White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico

“Here we go,” Tucker warned.

He turned left off Highway 380 and onto a smaller road that aimed toward the heart of the White Sands Missile Range. A sign on the shoulder read:

STALLION GATE
4 MILES

Jane swung around in the passenger seat to face Frank and Kane. “Time for you two boys to go into hiding.”

In the rearview mirror, Frank looked worried—and rightly so. Still, the man crammed himself into the footwell behind Tucker’s seat and pulled a blanket over his head. Kane followed his example and curled behind Jane’s seat. She leaned back and tossed another blanket over the dog—then piled on a pair of sleeping bags, a small folded tent, a camp stove, sacks of groceries, all topped by a couple of backpacks.

“How’re you all doing?” Jane asked once she was done.

Frank groaned from under his hiding place. “We’re gonna get caught.”

“If you keep fidgeting like that,” Jane warned, “we definitely will.”

Tucker glanced back and saw that Kane had already gone deathly still under his share of the pile, plainly understanding the intent here.

“Good boy, buddy,” Tucker encouraged him, and reinforced the plan with a firm order. “S
TAY
HIDDEN
.”

Tucker continued toward the lights that marked the Stallion Gate. To either side of the road spread a dark landscape of rolling sand, low hillocks, and spindly bushes, all etched in silver by the moonlight. To the east and west rose two mountain ranges, forming the rim of the basin where White Sands was nestled. It was a lonely stretch of desert that offered no hint of the advanced military base hidden here.

“I read in a brochure,” Jane mumbled as she settled back into her seat, “that this road could be backed up for miles during the day with tourists coming to visit the Trinity bomb site.”

“Well, that’s one advantage of a midnight raid,” Tucker commented. “No traffic.”

After another few minutes, they approached the Stallion Gate. Given the secure nature of the facility, the entrance was underwhelming. A small guard shack sat on the shoulder of the road. A prominent stop sign stood next to it, illuminated by a tall streetlight. All that blocked the road was a pair of orange cones.

As Tucker pulled to a stop, he noted a small camera positioned under an eave of the shack, pointed toward their vehicle. A man in a gray uniform and baseball cap stepped out of the shack. He carried a clipboard in one hand and lifted his other arm in a lazy greeting, clearly recognizing the Sirocco Power’s SUV. He stepped over as Tucker rolled his window down.

“Evening, guys,” the guard started—then stiffened at the discovery of strangers inside the vehicle.

“Not just guys this time,” Tucker corrected with a grin, pointing a thumb at Jane. They both wore the work uniforms confiscated from the power company’s trailer. “This is Pam. I’m Pete. We’re new to the team down here.”

Jane waved and gave him a beaming smile.

Before the guard could look too closely, Tucker thrust out the altered ID badges. The guard briefly scrutinized them, then checked his clipboard. His brow furrowed, plainly failing to find them on the current list of Sirocco Power employees on site.

Anticipating this, Tucker sighed loudly. “Chris and Adam rotated out yesterday.” He had gotten the names of the two Sirocco engineers from their wallets. “Looks like Pam and I get to be in the frying pan now. At least for the next six weeks. Heard it’s gonna be a scorcher tomorrow.”

The guard nodded and returned their badges. “And freezing tonight.”

Jane poked Tucker in the side. “Aren’t you glad I told you to pack the heavier sleeping bags?”

“Still, I don’t think we need this much camping gear for the one night.” Tucker turned to the guard and rolled his eyes. “If my wife had her way, we’d have hauled the whole damned double-wide trailer with us.”

Tucker had spotted the wedding band on the guard’s finger and figured a little commiserating between husbands might help smooth things over. A small smile of understanding briefly appeared before the man went stoic.

Tucker cleared his throat. “Our plan is to camp at the project site farthest from the gate and work our way back here. Try to beat the worst of the heat tomorrow.”

“Plus see the stars,” Jane added wistfully. “I heard they’re really beautiful at night.”

The guard nodded. “Okay, but I’ll need to inspect your vehicle. Can you roll down your back window and pop the rear hatch?”

Tucker nodded and hit the proper buttons. As the rear hatch opened on its own, the guard stepped over and shone a flashlight through the passenger window into the backseat, splashing the beam over the piled gear. Tucker held his breath, praying for Frank and Kane to remain perfectly still. Finally, the guard continued around to the open rear hatch. The flashlight settled on the object resting back there.

It was Rex.

Tucker hadn’t bothered trying to hide it, counting on the presence of the drone to draw attention away from their two hidden stowaways.

“What’s this?” the guard asked.

Jane twisted around to face the man, again flashing her smile. “That’s mine. It’s equipped with ground-penetrating radar. I use it to perform sweeps of the terrain. It’s why Pete and I were called in. Its generator sends out spherical waves designed to diffuse basalt and give me—”

The guard lifted a hand, interrupting what would have been an even longer explanation if need be. “Got it.”

Tucker reinforced their credentials with more technical talk. “The guys over at the Bureau of Land Management are worried the local gypsum karst deposits might mess with transmission ratio fall-off. We have to make them happy. You know bureaucrats.”

This earned a small chuckle. “Tell me about it.” The guard reached up and pulled the hatch closed. He came back around and leaned by the window. “Okay, you’re good to go.”

“Thanks,” Tucker said, happy it had all gone smoothly.

Unfortunately, the guard wasn’t done. “Once back in the shack, I’ll activate your GPS unit.” He pointed to the glove compartment. “Remember to stay within the twenty-five-mile perimeter allowed for Sirocco. If you stray outside of that area, you’ll find yourselves in a mess of trouble.”

Tucker nodded as if he intended to comply.

“And watch out for snakes,” the guard added.

Jane slipped her hand into Tucker’s, her voice turning coy. “In that case, maybe we better share
one
sleeping bag tonight.”

The guard grinned. “Sounds like you have one smart woman there.”

You don’t know the half of it
.

He waved to the guard and headed down the road into the dark desert. Jane kept hold of his hand for longer than the ruse required, but he didn’t object. He could not discount how it felt to play her husband, appreciating her warm touch, the glimmer in her eyes, the tilt of her smile. All reminders of what might have been.

Frank finally interrupted, his voice muffled by the pile of gear. “What the hell was that stuff about a GPS unit?”

Tucker heard the fumbling sound of Frank climbing out of hiding. Kane did the same. But Tucker focused on Jane as she reached down and opened the glove compartment. A blinking amber light glowed from its depths, revealing a GPS unit, stamped with the Department of Defense logo on its front.